


Doggone

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (well maybe he is but that's neither established nor negated by the story so), Flirting, Fluffy, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, M/M, meet cute, will's dogs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Hannibal is out walking through the park one day when he gets entangled with a certain someone.





	Doggone

Hannibal sipped his Starbucks coffee serenely (he normally preferred artisan brews from independent coffee shops, but unfortunately he had to make do with mass produced, corporately solicited java today) as he carried his paper sack full of groceries through the park on the way to his house. It was a lovely, peaceful day. The sunshine was pale gold, like beams of champagne. The spring flowers were fully in bloom, bordering the walkways in pastels. A small distance away, some children were playing soccer and giggling. Hannibal smiled. Yes, it certainly was a calm-

"Whoa-oh!"

Hannibal barely had time to look up before he found his legs being accosted by flurries of fur. Some five or six dogs, a range of sizes and breeds, were dancing around his feet, jumping toward his grocery bag with excitement.

"I am so sorry!" exclaimed the voice from before. Hannibal's eyes followed the line of leashes connected to the dogs' collars to the person holding onto the handles. Hannibal was met with dark brown scruff and clear blue eyes. The other man smiled self-deprecatingly as he tried to settle his dogs. "I'm so sorry," he apologized again. "They didn't ruin your nice suit, did they?"

"I appeared to be unscathed," Hannibal said with a smile. It wouldn't have mattered much, it was only his casual daywear Bespoke anyway.

"Winston here-" The man gently tugged on the collar of one dog with dappled, sandy colored fur. "-took off suddenly, and the rest of the pack just followed along."

Hannibal smiled. "It would seem that it was your dogs who took _you_ for a walk, instead of the other way around."

The dog walker laughed. "So it would seem."

"Perhaps Winston smelled the steaks in my bag," Hannibal continued, carefully petting the dog while balancing his shopping sack so nothing would spill.

"Probably," agreed the man. "He tends to be impulsive."

"Acting on impulse is living to the fullest extent of our authentic selves," Hannibal commented.

"You sound like a therapist."

"Then it's a good thing that I happen to be one." Hannibal reached out to shake the man's hand. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Will Graham," said the other man. But as he went to take Hannibal's hand, suddenly Winston, quickly followed by the other dogs, began barking and rushing around the two men's feet. As it happened, their leashes wound around their legs, and Hannibal and Will instinctively grabbed onto each other to keep from stumbling to the ground.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Will groaned again, his cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink. His arms were wrapped around Hannibal's torso, and Hannibal's were thrown around Will's shoulders, the grocery bag wedged between them. Miraculously, neither the bag nor the coffee had spilled. Hannibal briefly mused that it was lucky he hadn't bought eggs. Will sighed. "I don't know what's going on with my dogs today."

At this distance, Hannibal couldn't help but smell Will. He smelled woodsey, and like clean dog fur, and there was just the tiniest hint of river water and fresh fish (not enough to be offensive). Hannibal deduced that Will must live in the country, on a farm perhaps, with all his dogs obviously, and probably fished as a past time. But those scents were faint notes buried under the sweet chemicals of Will's aftershave. Only someone with as keen a nose as Hannibal would have noticed.

Will raised an eyebrow. "Did you just _smell_ me?" he asked incredulously, and perhaps a little amused.

"Difficult to avoid," Hannibal chuckled, indicating to where their legs were bound together by the tangle of dog leashes. "Someone really should introduce you to a finer aftershave. That smells like something with a ship on the bottle."

"Well, I keep getting it for Christmas," Will admitted.

"Nevertheless, I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable," Hannibal said.

"Oh no, I always let attractive European psychiatrists smell my neck in the middle of the park," Will laughed nervously.

Hannibal smirked. "Well, this definitely isn't my first time being tied up with a handsome man."

Will turned bright pink, and Hannibal thought he was all the more adorable for it. Will laughed again, shyly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Um...we should probably-"

"Definitely." Together, the two men freed themselves from the tangle of leashes.

"Um...oh. It's getting close to dark," said Will, looking at the setting sun behind the trees.

"Yes," agreed Hannibal. "And I have to get home before my ice cream melts."

"And I need to take my dogs home to feed them," Will said.

Hannibal nodded. "Well then, it was very nice to meet you, Will Graham."

"Nice to meet you too...erm. Hold on." Will took Hannibal's cup of coffee (cold by now), pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, and quickly scribbled something on it. He handed it back to the therapist.

Hannibal looked to see that Will had written "W.G." along with a series of ten digits on the cup. "Your phone number," Hannibal inferred.

"Being impulsive," Will said, shrugging sheepishly. "Call me sometime. Or text me. If you want. Or don't, if you don't. Want to, I mean."

"I do want to," said Hannibal. "And I will, Will."

Will smiled. "Okay. Well...see you later then."

"Yes, Will. Goodnight."

Will coaxed his dogs one way, and Hannibal toted his bag the other. Both men left the park smiling.


End file.
